[[[-IF6-P10.TXT-]]]


----------------
Island Fever 6: Sanctuary
Written by: JeremyDCP@hotmail.com

M/F, F/F and a whole lot more
----------------



Chapter 10: "Consequences"
-------------------------------------------


            -*-  Monday, October 10, 2016  -*-
                   -*-  The Island  -*-


   "Wait.  So you are actually, truly breaking up with me?"
Alison asked Lindsay, flabbergasted, as the two of them - and 
all of the other ladies on the island, and even yours truly - 
were grouped together in the master bedroom here in the mansion.
   Lindsay looked hurt, defeated.  "I can't.  We can't... Ali.
I cannot continue to have you in my life, the way you have been
for most of this year, while knowing that you lied to Mom and
ruined my relationship with her.  You've been lying to us the
whole time too, scheming.  You're my sister and I will always 
love you because of it, but you... you... you need to go."
   "But Lindsay!" Alison pleaded, reaching across the small
table and latching onto her sister's wrist.  "Baby, PLEASE!
How many times do I have to defend myself, and say that I
made a mistake?  How many times do I have to offer to fix it?"
   "It's for the best, Ali," Lindsay deadpanned, her tone low.
"I'm not going to argue or scream, or go back and forth on
this, like we have all day.  I'm done.  You... need to go."
   "LINDSAY!"
   Instead of answering, Lindsay turned her face toward the
big picture window and absently stared off into the great
unknown.  She was still mystified because of what Alison had
admitted several hours ago - secrets and lies concerning
their mother, perpetrated solely by Alison - and her mind was
struggling to catch up, to make sense of it all.
   All the while I lay in bed, still resting my injured back
but watching them, and trying to understand my role in this.
Was what Alison did shocking?  Yes.  Disappointing?  Sure.
The fact that she tried to justify her actions, her lies, for
the majority of the day instead of being truly repentant?  Sad.
Yet did I feel remorse, or that Lindsay was too making too
hasty of decision in wanting Alison banished from the island
and our lives altogether?  Absolutely not.
   With Lindsay still refusing to look her way, Alison turned
toward Trish, undoubtedly her best friend and partner in crime
on the island, so to speak, for some sort of support here.
Alison and Trish enjoyed each others' company and often went
surfing and hiking together, among other outdoor activities on
the island.  They also loved playing video games as a tandem.
   "Trish?" Alison cried, literally begging her for some help.
Anything; Alison wanted Trish to talk to Lindsay for her.
   But no matter how much of a friendship they had developed
this year, including all of the steamy romance, in Trish's 
eyes, Alison was not Lindsay.  No one even came remotely close 
to comparing to Lindsay for her, and Trish made that point 
abundantly clear when she stepped over to her wife and put a 
loving hand on her shoulder.  "You need to pack your things up 
and go," Trish simply told Alison, as Lindsay let out a cry 
and reached upward, latching onto Trish's arm.
   Things were looking bleak for Alison, so she turned toward
the next woman whom she thought may help her.  "Pamela?  Pamela,
PLEASE!"  Alison had somewhat of a history with Pamela.  They
got along good, and Alison often went to her for advice.  In
addition, Pamela was the first woman in the family, outside of
Lindsay, who Alison actually had sex with.  "Talk some sense
into them!  I've staked too much into this family, this way of
life, for them to send me up the river for an honest mistake!"
   "An honest mistake?" Pamela retorted, rising up from her
chair and strolling over to Lindsay.  "You lied to your mom,
Alison, and told her Jeremy and Lindsay want her to join our
family because your fantasy in life is one big incestuous pit
of sin and corruption.  And in the process, you freaked your
mom out and shattered the bond that she had with Lindsay,
with Jeremy... with all of us."  Pamela leaned down and kissed
the very crown of Lindsay's head, showing her allegiance.  "I
want you gone, too.  I... I never want to see you again."
   Frantic now, Alison was running out of options.  The list
grew even shorter when Devon, Amy and Scarlett all went over
to Lindsay and stood behind her to show their support.
   "KRISTANNA!" Alison screeched, staring at her as she stood
off in the corner by herself.  "Kristanna, please!  Please do
something!  You're like the leader of the family, and everyone
does what you tell them!  Ask them to reconsider!"  Alison
began crying.  "I... I don't w-want to leave!..."
   "I'm not the leader," Kristanna corrected her.  "We make
important, life-altering decisions like this as a family.  And
our decision is made."  She walked over and joined the brigade
with Lindsay.  "Besides, if it was up to me, you'd have been
gone hours ago."   Kristanna placed a kiss upon Lindsay's cheek.
   And thus, there was only person left for Alison to turn to.
   "JEREMY!" she sobbed, rushing over to my bedside.  I sighed
and glanced at the piece of paper that I held in my hands.  On
it there were booking reservations for an airport hotel tonight
in Lima, and information on a first class ticket I had purchased
for Alison, for a flight out in the morning to Cincinnati, with 
a layover in Dallas.  Also, I was going to wire $1,000,000 to a 
bank account for Alison in Ohio so she could get her life back 
in order.  Specifics concerning it were on the paper, too.
   Alison noticed the sheet I held, and presumably the official
emblem for _Jorge Chávez International Airport_ in Lima, and it
proved to be the final nail in the coffin for her.  Her fate
was sealed, and she knew it.  Thus, her demeanor changed.
   "I gave you and Lindsay EVERYTHING, Jeremy!" Alison roared,
suddenly boiling with anger.  And rage.  "Especially YOU!  And
this is how I get treated?  I get shipped away five days before
my wedding and told I am no longer WELCOME here?"  Alison began
crying hysterically.  "Look at all of the things I did for you;
all the things that you MADE me do!  I gave you... EVERYTHING!
Look at all the times you... you... you VIOLATED me!"
   "Don't try and act modest, you kinky, little brat!" Scarlett
snapped at her.  "Everything you and Jeremy tried together, all
of the things you experimented with, you LOVED it.  You KNOW it."
   "Jeremy never once VIOLATED you!" Amy hissed.
   "Don't try and push the blame elsewhere, Ali," Trish advised
her.  "It just makes you look really bad.  You're the one who
lied to your mom about Lindsay and Jeremy.  You're the one who
destroyed the mother-daughter bond that Lindsay had with her.
And you're the one who has been dishonest with us all year,
hiding what you truly wanted, all this time.  It's really sad,
because I liked you a lot, and I thought you were a cool girl.
I really enjoyed being around you every day."
   "Be glad that Jeremy is putting you up in a nice hotel tonight
and sending you out first-class in the morning!" Scarlett fumed.
"If it was me, I'd throw you in the ocean and have you SWIM!"
Scarlett made a face as if she was utterly disgusted.  "Nasty,
filthy, little SKANK!  I never did like you!"
   Alison was getting piled on now, but I really could not blame
the others for whatever they chose to say to her.  I was not
going to make them stop, either, unless things got way too far
out of hand.  Still, Alison apparently felt like there may be a
small, faint flicker of hope left for her...
   "JEREMY!  I love you!  I thought you loved me, too!  Please,
oh God, PLEASE!  PLEASE GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE!  Look at all of
the things we have done together, all of the fun we have had!"
Alison was crying, and it was pathetic.  "DON'T YOU LOVE ME?"
   I did love Alison - or, I did until what I learned earlier
today.  She was right, though.  We had some pretty unique and
one-of-a-kind experiences together, and I would miss her.  Oh,
I would miss her.  But there was no place for her in our family
from this point forward.  Alison, unfortunately, had to go.
   "This is your hotel reservation for the night, and your
flight ticket information for the morning," I simply told her,
holding out the piece of paper.  "Also, instructions on how
to get some money that I have waiting for you at your hometown
bank in Ohio, the same city where your mom lives."
   "I wouldn't give her one little krone!" Scarlett spat out,
referring to Norwegian currency.
   "Hey, settle down," Devon murmured to Scarlett, putting an
arm around her shoulder.  "No need to lay the beat-down any
more on Alison.  I think she has had enough."
   "Captain Mike is coming here in a helicopter," I told Alison,
frowning.  "He will be here in 45 minutes and will fly you back
to the mainland, and see to it that you make it safe and sound
to the hotel, and help get you on the airplane in the morning."
I wanted to fly her back on our private jet, but Scarlett threw
a fit earlier.  Alison needed to fly commercial, she insisted.
   "Come on, Ali," Devon sighed, extending a hand her way.  "I
will help you get all of your things together.  Someone has to.
If we miss anything, I will see to it that it gets shipped to
you in Ohio as soon as possible.  Same for when we return home
to Norway - I'll have all of your belongings expedited to you."
   Speechless, Alison simply stared at me.  She was heartbroken.
I felt sorry for her, though I in reality, I should not have.
All of this was of her own selfish, manipulative doing.  And 
then, Devon came forward and steered Alison out of the master 
bedroom.  Perhaps this would be my last time ever seeing her...
   With Alison clearly out of the bedroom and gone from view,
Lindsay finally tore her gaze away from the picture window and
hurried over to my bedside.  She made a motion to hop into bed,
likely with a notion to then squeeze me with an emotional bear 
hug, but stopped short at the last second because of my back
injury.  Lindsay stood beside me and covered her mouth with
both hands before a bout of tears hit.  Slow at first, and
then the dam burst.  They rolled down her cheeks in liquid
hot waves.  I reached out and pulled her to me, ignoring any
pain it caused, and wrapped my arms around her.
   As we hugged one another upon the bed, Lindsay was flooded
with a cold rush of emotion - anger, heartbreak, and the
kingpin of all, embarrassment.
   Her mother, of all people, was under the impression that 
Lindsay wanted to have sexual relations with her.  Bring her 
into the family, maybe even _marry_ her one day in the future.  
That was so untrue.  Of course, Alison also told Leslie that 
_I_ wanted to marry her, too.  That was a total lie as well.  
We all could be a _family_, Alison told her.  The mother 
reunited with her two daughters, and a new _father_ in me.
   No wonder Leslie hung the telephone up on us every single
time Lindsay and/or I attempted to get into contact with her
these past couple of months.
   Scarlett grabbed a napkin from the end table and used it
to help dry Lindsay's tears.  "Alison is not worth it, baby.
Seriously, she's not.  Alison only cares about herself.  Else,
she would not have went and spread all those malicious lies."
   Lindsay did not respond.  She probably couldn't, not knowing
what to say.  All of her life, Lindsay had held everyone in her
immediate family in such high, lofty regards.  All of them were
special and sacred to her.  But now, her father was deceased,
never to be seen again, and her mother looked at her as an unholy
sinner, a freak who was attracted to her, and needed atonement.
And Lindsay's baby sister?  A scheming and conniving little
minx who had been manipulating her way through our family, and
into our hearts, since the early part of the year.  Lying and
positioning things just right, so she could get what she wanted.
   What did Lindsay have left?  Gina and Jennifer, her other
two sisters?  They seemed totally disinterested in talking to
her as well these past couple of months, though they had not
shut her out completely like their mother did.  Now, the lack
of caring and support they had displayed made perfect sense.
   Lindsay raised her gaze to Scarlett.  "Alison is my SISTER.
How could my own sister hurt me, try to destroy my life?  All
I wanted... was for Alison to be taken care of, and... happy."
   "She's an immature brat.  And she doesn't deserve you."
   Lindsay shook her head.  "Ali created some cracks in our
group marriage, our family, too, and we need to work on them.
Patch them up going forward.  But... my sister.  How could
she do this to me?  How?  My own SISTER!"
   "Alison has always been jealous of you, baby, especially the
last three years once she found out about Jeremy and Trish,"
Kristanna reminded her.  "I mean, Alison told you that she was
jealous of you herself, right?  Jealousy can make people do...
some pretty awful things."  Yet the look on Lindsay's face right
now just about did Kristanna in.  "I'm so sorry, honey."
   "I don't want sympathy right now!" Lindsay shrieked.  "It's
just making me feel all the more pitiful..."
   Kristanna looked at me, totally unaware of what to say next.
   Lindsay gestured limply in the direction of the adjacent
washroom.  For as much as she was upset right now and sobbing,
I sensed there was a tidal wave of emotion waiting to crash
down on her, and she definitely wanted to be alone when it hit.
"I'm going to jump into the shower and probably stay there
forever."  Lindsay did not wait for a response from anyone;
she retracted from my embrace and started moving.
   "Hold on, sweetheart.  Please?  Let me come with you."
   She paused at the entryway to the washroom and glanced
back at Trish.  "No.  I need to be alone for now."
   "I'll be out here when you're done," Trish promised her.
"We can talk.  Eat chocolate peanut butter ice cream."
   "I thought you were on a strict diet."
   "All the more reason to do it."
   Lindsay offered a halfhearted smile.  It was the best that
she could do given the circumstances.  Trish was there for her
and would help her work through this very rough and difficult
time in her life.  All of us, in fact, were there for Lindsay.  
Everyone looked on with sad eyes as she barricaded herself in 
the washroom, locking its door.
   "Jeremy, are you okay?"  Kristanna knelt down beside me
after having made her way over, and lovingly grasped my hand
with hers.  "I know that you and Alison were really close,
too.  You okay, baby?  All of us have been so worried about
Lindsay and her emotions, but we are worried about you, too."
   The world felt different now as I looked back over things
from a new perspective.  How often, whenever I was with Alison
and one or more of my wives, would Alison smile and seem
happy, but then cast a leery eye my way when I kissed someone
other than her?  I thought it was a natural reflex thing, a
meaningless quirk... but it all took on new meaning now, and
I felt sick to my stomach because of it.
   "You know what I think?" Amy stated.  "I think, ultimately,
Alison wanted all of us gone.  She wanted us out of the
picture completely.  All Alison wanted was Lindsay, Jeremy
and her mom, and that's it.  That was her end goal."
   "And her other two sisters too, probably," Scarlett added.
   "And she would have her family again, just like old times,
before her father passed away," Amy nodded.
   Scarlett shook her head.  "Probably had twisted fantasies
of fucking her dad, too."
   Trish gasped and brought a hand to her mouth.  "SCARLETT!
DON'T SAY THAT around Lindsay, okay?  PLEASE!  Oh my God, it
would wreck her!  You know what she thinks about her dad!
His memory... her dad is like the holy grail to her!"
   "I won't," Scarlett promised.
   As I heard the shower start up in the nearby washroom, I
finally answered Kristanna's question from earlier.  "It
really hurts, Krissy, but I'm glad the truth came out now
instead of later."  Fact is, I could try and deny it - as I
did earlier in this chapter - but my feelings for Alison were
still quite real.  But that did not mean that my heart had not
been ripped out and stomped on.  Violently.  I felt humiliated
and, even worse, knew that all of this stung a million times
more for Lindsay.  My precious wife was in pain, an emotional 
disaster, and for that I could never forgive Alison.
   Or want her back.
   Kristanna kissed my cheek.  "If you need someone to talk
to, Jeremy, you know I will be there for you."
   "You've always been there for me, Krissy.  You've been
there every single time I've needed you for nearly eight
years now and counting."  I smiled at her.  "It's one of
the many, many reasons why I love you so incredibly much."
   A few moments later, some of the ladies began to disperse
and leave the bedroom.  Devon was already off, I imagine
helping Alison pack.  Kristanna, Pamela and Amy all agreed
to check on the children who, with the time being 8:45pm,
had been put down into their cribs for the evening long ago.
   The shower was still running, yet I could hear Lindsay
crying over the sound of it.  Trish tried to barge in and
comfort her when the emotions first came pouring out in full
force, but Lindsay screeched at her through the locked door,
insisting that she be left alone.  Thus, Trish simply sat in
front of the closed door and stared at it as Lindsay
continued to cry and cycle through her many emotions.  Trish
was not going to budge an inch; she was staying there on the
floor like a timid, lonely puppy, until her wife came out.
   It was a testament of how much Trish truly loved Lindsay.
   I wanted to rush in there and snuggle with Lindsay as
well, tell her everything would be okay in the long run, but
the poor girl needed some space now.  She needed privacy.  I
was not going to force myself on her until she was ready.
   "Jeremy?"
   I heard that familiar and deep, smoky voice, and turned my
gaze in the opposite direction from the washroom only to find
Scarlett looking down at me, her green eyes inquisitive.  I
really liked it that even though they were at each others'
throats earlier, Scarlett went rushing to Lindsay's aide when
the web of lies concerning Alison was exposed.  Lindsay was
Scarlett's wife and though they may argue from time to time,
the love and admiration they shared always won out in the end.
Whatever differences they had earlier were now history.
   "Yes?"
   "Jeremy, we're going to talk about your back now."
   Uh oh.  I gulped my throat as Scarlett sat down on the
edge of the bed.  She was not happy with the risks that I
had been taking, notably earlier today.  Going to the voyeur
room on my own, and then allowing Alison to give me that
blowjob in bed.  It placed significant strain on my back, my
spine, and put me at risk for further injury.  I must have
tweaked it somehow during the blowjob, because I could not
get out of bed on my own the rest of the afternoon.
   But the worst offense on my part, at least in Scarlett's
eyes, was when I went dominant earlier on Amy and demanded that 
she help me out of bed, and literally drag me to the voyeur 
room.  I could have seriously gotten hurt, much more than I am 
now.  The pain was excruciating as Amy pulled me along and to 
the voyeur room, yet I demanded that she keep doing so.  But I 
had to find out what was happening with Lindsay and Alison 
earlier, right?  I had to know they were safe.
   "There has been enough arguing and screaming today, all
around, to last this family for an entire year," Scarlett
advised me.  "So, I'm not going to raise my voice at you and
get emotional.  But I've talked to you about your back and
your need to take care of it, yet you refuse to listen."
   "Scarlett, I..."
   "Shhhhh," she whispered, placing a finger to my lips and
muting me.  Wow.  "I'm not going to sit by as you destroy your
back and eventually wind up in a wheelchair for the rest of
your life.  You cannot stay in bed for three days and simply
allow your back to heal?  These three days seem so precious
to you, Jeremy, yet you're ignoring the next 30 years of your
life for them.  The next 40.  I'm not going to let you do it.
You're like a little kid - you're like Kaden - unable to stay
still for more than a few seconds at a time."
   I stared up at her, weary.  Scarlett was not happy right
now, and I knew that she meant business.
   "Do you remember that I am a registered nurse?"
   "Of course I do."
   "Good," Scarlett nodded.  "Then you should realize that I
know what I am talking about when it comes to resting your
back.  You should listen to me, but you don't.  You refuse."
   "That's not..."
   "Here's what's going to happen," Scarlett interjected,
reaching underneath the bed and pulling out a box full of
BDSM restraints.  Some of Amy's toys?  "You like to play
your rough, little games with Amy?  Lindsay?  Alison, too?
Oh, you like being the one in charge?  Makes you feel good?
Yeah.  Well... hmmmmm."  Scarlett placed a velcro restraint
directly atop my chest.  "The next time you get out of this
bed, Jeremy, without asking me first, I'm going to tie you
down to it, all four limbs... to all four corners."  My eyes
went wide as her tone was dark, and ominous.  "And you will
STAY tied up until your back is 100 percent, fully healed."
   "You will NOT do that!" was my immediate, gut reaction.
   "Oh, but I will," Scarlett warned me, her eyes flashing.
"You are NOT going to put yourself into a wheelchair under my
watch, Jeremy.  I will NOT let you do that to your wives, to
me, to your children.  You think you cannot get hurt any 
further - you think you're immune - but you're not.  Oh, 
you're not."  Scarlett nodded her head and added, "Go ahead.  
Try me.  Get out of bed and try me.  I WANT you to.  TRY ME!  
You'll soon learn what it's like to have no control."
   Suddenly, I was too scared to even move a muscle.  Scarlett
was dead-set serious.  She was going to tie me up, restrain me
in this bed, if I defied her medical advice and knowledge one
more time?  My own wife!  Apparently, the threat of this was
the only way that Scarlett felt she could get through to me, 
and finally make me listen.
   Satisfied with my reaction, Scarlett simply leaned down 
and pecked my forehead with a kiss.  "I'm going to go check 
on our son.  I'll be back later.  Now, don't go anywhere..."
   And without another word, she turned and left the bedroom.
   I lay there in bed, feeling shocked and repulsed, the
ramifications of what would happen if I tried to get up and
move on my own running throughout my mind.  Scarlett was
going to put me into bondage and keep me restrained in bed!
The idea did not sound one bit appealing at all, and I knew
that she was not joking.  Oh, Scarlett was serious.
   Trish was giggling, meanwhile, and had her face turned 
toward me.  "Well, Jeremy.  Looks like I'll know where to
find you for the next two or three days."  She pointed in my
general direction with both index fingers.  "RIGHT THERE, in
that bed.  One way, or ANOTHER."  Trish stopped giggling, and
scrunched her nose at me.  "It's for your own good, you know.
Scarlett is only doing this because she loves you."  And then,
Trish re-focused all of her attention on the washroom door in
front of her, patiently waiting for Lindsay to emerge...

                           * * *

   It was past midnight when Lindsay persuaded me to watch one
more episode of her favorite television show, _Game of Thrones_.
Everyone, including Trish, had cleared out hours ago and left us
on our own.  Lindsay told Trish that she wanted to talk to me in
private.  Lindsay and I were, after all, closer with Alison than
anyone else was.  Trish put up a bit of a protest, but Lindsay
smoothed her over with hugs and kisses, and promised that they
would have a long talk of their own first thing in the morning.
   "This was the best episode of _Game of Thrones_ EVER!"
Lindsay squealed, relaxing next to me in bed as we viewed the
big plasma television upon the wall.  "Battle of the Bastards!
When the heroic Jon Snow and his army, and the truly heinous
Ramsey Bolton and his army, finally go to battle.  Jon Snow,
beaten and battered and bloodied, wins out in the end and
Lady Sansa, abused for years by Ramsey Bolton, gets her sweet
revenge by having his own pack of wild, hungry dogs devour
him to close the show.  The smirk on her face when she walks
away and he is screaming... this is truly epic television!"
   I glanced over at Lindsay.  "Sweetheart?  Do you have a
dark side that you're not telling any of us about?"
   Lindsay laughed.  "No, not at all!  It's just that this
show is the BEST SHOW EVER on television!  And this episode
was the BEST of them all!  EVER!  _Twitter_ exploded once
the original airing ended back in June.  It was so FREAKING
awesome."  She let out a little chuckle and added, "You know,
I would fit real well into the _Game of Thrones_ universe if 
it were an actual place.  I'd be right at home."
   "Oh?  Why is that?"
   Lindsay frowned.  "There's so much incest and debauchery 
on that show, in that world.  I'd fit in perfectly."
   "Oh, honey... stop it."  I reeled my wife in a bit closer
and kissed her cheek.  "Don't say things like that, okay?"
   "So Alison is gone?"
   I nodded, hearing the first words from Lindsay concerning
anything about her sister since she officially broke up with
her four hours ago.  "Yes, Captain Mike came and took her away
in the helicopter while you were still in the shower.  Devon
helped her pack.  How long did you stay in the shower, anyway?
The water must have gotten cold, you were there so long."
   "It was freezing."
   "Lindsay!" I gently chided her.  "You'll get sick!"
   "I just needed the time alone.  I'm going to miss Alison.
She is my sister, and I love her.  But I cannot believe what
she did to me.  To us.  I cannot believe the way Alison has
desecrated Dad, and his memory.  It... hurts."
   "I know it does, honey.  It hurts me too.  But this was
the right move for you, for me, for our entire family going
forward.  You did the right thing in breaking up with her."
I kissed Lindsay on the cheek once more.  "Are you going to
call, try and talk to your mom?  Message her online, maybe?"
   "Let's see if Ali stays true to her promise, and tells
Mom everything," Lindsay countered.  "I'm going to call Mom
in a couple of days and try and talk to her, see what's up.
That will give Alison plenty of time to come clean."
   "And if she doesn't?"
   "Then I'll see to it that she does," Lindsay proclaimed.
   I began to wonder if I would actually sleep well tonight.
Not because of the disappointment and the shock of what
Alison had done to us, or the fact that she was no longer here,
but rather due to what I was watching on television right
now.  This particular episode of _Game of Thrones_ - my
wife's favorite one, remember - was testing my tolerance for
blood, guts, dead giants and other hallmarks of grim, medieval
battle.  There were slashings, shootings and spearings aplenty,
of course, but also horse tramplings and even neck bitings.
   How in the world could Lindsay, as well as Trish, be so
incredibly fascinated with a television program like this?
Kristanna too.  And Devon.  And Amy.  Whenever there was a
new episode, they were absolutely glued to the television,
and then would drone on about it for hours afterward like
those 60 or so minutes had been a world-changing event.
   Some of my wives even likened themselves to various
characters on the show itself.  Kristanna preferred to think
of herself as Queen Cersei, ruler of the kingdom (or island).
Devon claimed that she could be Daenerys, Cersei's ultimate
nemesis in the show, while Amy had a soft spot for Queen
Margaery.  Lindsay was Lady Sansa, and Trish was the silent
assassin, Arya Stark.  Oh, what vivid imaginations they had.
   Of course, the ladies likened me to one of the characters
in the show as well, even though I rarely watched it with
them.  Did they bestow upon me the character of Jon Snow,
the heroic savior?  Or Sir Jaime, the dashing Kingslayer?
Sir Jaime, of course, was Queen Cersei's love interest.  And
her brother.  At least half of that matched up with Kristanna
and I, right?  It seemed like a good fit for me, at least.
   No, the ladies all agreed that I could be... Littlefinger.
   That's right, Littlefinger - he who ran the town brothel.
   It was cute when they first mentioned it to me.

   But not now.

   "How's your back?"
   "It's fine, honey," I told Lindsay.  "Feels much better
than it did just this afternoon, and earlier tonight."
   Lindsay giggled.  "You better not try and get up."
   I shivered at the thought.  "Oh, trust me.  I won't."
   Lindsay, I thought to myself, had the prettiest eyelashes.
And the softest blue eyes.  So warm and expressive.  It was
incredibly easy to lose yourself in eyes like those.  I nearly
had done so already several times thus far tonight.
   "Alison made a huge mistake, you know," I gently told her.
"She will figure that out at some point, and will realize
that everything came crashing down because of her."
   "Do you know if Ali made it to the hotel okay?"
   "She did," I nodded.  "Captain Mike texted me and said that
she was quite a handful on the helicopter ride.  Alison offered
him a blowjob if he would turn the helicopter around and bring
her back to the island.  But Mike said no, and saw to it that
Alison made it safe and sound to the airport hotel in Lima."
   Lindsay giggled.  "Alison offered to suck Captain Mike's
cock?  WOW.  Maybe she is a skank after all, like Scarlett
says?"  Lindsay frowned at those words, clearly not meaning
them.  "But she went barking up the wrong tree with Mike.
His two wives - Carolyn and Barbara - seems to me that they
suck his cock more than enough.  He seems like a happy dude."
   "I have no idea what Mike does with his two wives in his
personal life," I countered.  "Nor do I care to speculate."
   After finally stepping out of the shower hours ago, Lindsay
did not bother blow-drying her hair.  Being depressed over
her sister, the 21-year-old claimed that the extra effort was 
not worth it tonight.  As a result, Lindsay's blonde locks were
down this evening and loose in an untamed kind of way, which
only added to her alluring image.  The haphazard waves fanned
out in a million different directions.  Translation: sexy.
   This girl, even when trying not to be, was flat-out hot.
   "Jeremy, will you do me a favor?"
   "What, honey?  Anything."
   "Will you PLEASE take care of your back?"  Lindsay sniffed
her nose and shifted all of her attention to me, the center of 
my chest.  She placed her forehead there and slipped both arms
around my waist and squeezed gently, lovingly.  "I'm no doctor
or no nurse like Scarlett is, but I'm your wife - one of them,
at least - and Kaylee is our daughter.  I don't want you to 
have to get that back surgery in the future.  I don't want, 
20 years from now when I'm still just 41, for my husband to be
confined to a wheelchair because he wouldn't listen to 
medical advice and orders.  I want you to be there for Kaylee
as she grows up, all of your children, and do the things every
father should do with his kids."  Lindsay pulled back and gazed 
up at me, her eyes glistening with moisture.  "I'd still love
you if you were in a wheelchair... but I rather you'd not."
   Oh, dear.  Those eyes.  And how tender Lindsay was...
   "I'm listening to Scarlett from this point forward," I
promised her.  "She already has an appointment for me on
October 24th at the university hospital in Oslo.  The doctor,
apparently, is one of her best friends at the hospital.  I
will go see him, honey, he will check my back out and do his
own tests, make his own conclusions, and we will go from
there.  Whatever he wants me to do, I will do."
   "It was really scary on Sunday afternoon, Jeremy, when
those medical people came, put you on a stretcher and took
you away in that helicopter."  Lindsay looked vulnerable now,
frightened even.  I dipped my head, embarrassed that things
had gotten to that point.  "None of us knew what to think!
We had no idea what was wrong with you.  I... I wondered...
I wondered if you would... ever walk again."  And of course,
Lindsay began crying now.  Great.  This time, all my fault.
   "I'm going to be fine," I insisted.  "The doctor at the
hospital in Lima did not seem all that concerned, provided
I take care of myself.  I have a condition, Lindsay, but
right now it is inflamed, the area is sore, it's strained.
Once the inflammation settles down, I'll be back to normal,
but I will keep a closer eye on it in the future."
   "Do you PROMISE?"
   I smiled at her.  "I promise."  Lindsay continued to sob
though, albeit gently, so I cradled her face with my hands
and stared down directly at her.  "Honey, I promise.  I swear."
How could I ever go back on my word to Lindsay now?
   "Okay," she whispered in response, before claiming my lips
in a kiss that made me temporarily forget the many trials and
tribulations of the past 36 hours.  Soft and sensuous, slow
and tender, Lindsay traced her tongue over mine.
   Once the kiss was over, though, I snatched the remote
control and turned the television off.  People dying and
screaming in agony in the background just did not seem to
mesh with the moment Lindsay and I were sharing right now.
"I hope you don't mind that I turned off _Game of Thrones_,
honey, though you've watched that one episode probably a
thousand times by now.  I just... want to concentrate on you."
   "Do I look unhappy?"
   I stared at her.  "You look hot."
   Lindsay laughed, wiping away the last remnants of her tears.
   "You're so special to me, sweetheart.  You're my little
princess; you always have been, always will be."  I kissed her
on the forehead.  "I love you more than you'll ever know."
   "I love you more than anyone, Jeremy.  I... always have.
It's... not even a contest.  No one comes close to you."
   Okay, there was no way that was true.  "Please.  I know we
are trying to be nice, say nice things, but don't stretch the
truth.  What about Trish?  You're constantly flirting with her.
You two are crazy over each other.  I watch it play out daily.
You're closer - tighter - with her than anyone."
   "I do love Trish.  But not as much as I love you."
   "No."
   "Yes.  I've never told anyone about this.  I never wanted
to hurt Trish's feelings."  And that was when I saw it.  The
touch of red that colored Lindsay's cheeks, hinting at total
sincerity.  Again, she looked vulnerable.
   "Are you serious right now?"
   Lindsay nodded.  "I was in love with you from the very
moment I first saw you.  I mean, it's ridiculous to think
about now, but when I first came to the island, in 2013, I
was so jealous of some of the other girls.  Pamela, Devon,
Amy.  You were spending all of your time with them yet there I
was, in the background, desperately wanting to talk to you."
Lindsay's gaze shifted elsewhere, away from me.  "I thought
maybe you felt that I was too young for you, being only 18, or
something.  Maybe too immature, I don't know."  She again made
eye contact with me and continued forward, "But we became
friends and lovers not long after, and the rest is history."
   "Don't you see, Jeremy?  Trish is a very, very special girl,
someone I care about more than life itself.  So is Amy, for
that matter.  I love them both more than words can say.  I
love all my wives that way.  But Trish and Amy, neither of
them are you.  No one is.  You're... everything to me."
   I blinked at her and adjusted my glasses because, well, I
did not know what else to do.  Or say.
   Lindsay stiffened.  "That.  That little glasses thing you
just did is a move, by the way.  A total move.  Since I am
being honest and upfront with you right now, every time you
do that, Jeremy, it drives me absolutely crazy."
   "What?  Straighten my glasses?"
   "And your forearms."
   "My... forearms?"
   "Yes."  Lindsay threw all caution into the wind as she
elaborated, "Every time I see you, I always notice your 
forearms.  Strong, sexy... hot.  Your hands are strong and
well-formed too, with clean, trimmed nails.  You have broad
palms, and your profile is breathtaking.  You're a magnet,
Jeremy, with a powerful draw.  God, I had never been so 
instantly attracted to someone the way I was when I first
met you at the airport that day in June 2013."
   "I wanted to walk over and lean over your shoulder, rest 
my lips on your neck, push my breasts into your back.  I 
wanted to see you smile at me, then for you to take charge 
and pull my head down to yours for a kiss, both hands on me -
strong and demanding - while you tasted me with your tongue.
I wanted those dark, gorgeous brown eyes of yours burning
into mine.  I wanted to run my hands through your hair, yank 
you in, let you know I was serious, and then for you to stand 
up and crush me to your chest, take charge, one hand cupping
my ass, the other on my..."
   I shifted about, unable to help it, but the sudden move
startled Lindsay and she seemed to come back to reality, her
face now blushing a bright, crimson red.  Did my wife really 
intend to use such explicit detail about our initial meeting 
and the attraction that she felt for me?  She had a special
affinity for my forearms, it seemed, and her heart apparently
did flip-flops whenever I adjusted my eyeglasses.
   "You know, you should write a book.  A romance novel."
   She giggled.  "I'll leave that to you.  You're the expert."
   "You could be LindsayDCP."
   "I may consider it."  Lindsay snuggled in closer and buried
the side of her face upon my chest.  "Hmmmmm.  I much prefer 
this - being here with you - to watching _Game of Thrones_."
   I stifled a laugh.  "Gee, thanks."
   "No, I'm serious.  I know how strongly you feel about 
Krissy and Pamela, Jeremy.  Krissy is your soulmate, your best 
friend.  She has been that way for eight years.  And Pamela 
and you, you're kindred spirits.  I get that.  We all do.
Everyone knows how much you love them both, and it's okay.  
It really is.  But, know this.  I love you just the same, if
not more.  I love you more than anything, anyone.  Period."
   "And you're not jealous of Kristanna or Pamela?" I asked. 
This had always been a delicate subject to approach with any of 
my wives, yet it was an unwritten rule - a known fact - that
everyone in the family had their favorites.  And yes, some of
us were not as close as we should be, like a marriage dictated.
We all loved each other, but in some cases, to varying degrees.
We were all part of the greater good, though, something bigger.
   "No, I'm not jealous of them," Lindsay answered.  "We're 
all a family, and that is what matters more than anything."  
I smiled inwardly, feeling somewhat relieved.  The perfect
answer from Lindsay, especially in a moment where she was 
preaching honesty.  "I love you, Jeremy, wish I could spend 
more time with you.  But I also know that you love Krissy, 
Pamela.  You love Amy.  Devon, Trish, Scarlett.  It makes ME
happy to know that they are making YOU happy.  Krissy and 
Pamela may be one and two on your list, they may even be 
one-A and one-B, but I know I'm somewhere high up there, too."
   "Oh, trust me, honey.  You are.  You are..."
   "And I'm fine with that," she insisted.  "Three and a half
years ago, when we first met, I was jealous of the other girls
when you paid all that attention to them.  Now, it's different.  
We have our family, and everything is okay.  And I know that 
any time I really want to be alone with you, spend time with 
you in private, Jeremy, all I have to do is ask.  Like tonight.  
The other girls can respect that because they can relate to it,
and they happily give me that space."  
   Lindsay smiled and added, "That's what I love most about 
our family... the pure unselfishness of everyone.  We have to 
make certain sacrifices that one would see as routine from a 
normal, one-on-one marriage.  I may only have one, two, maybe 
three times a week, where I can sit down and talk to you in 
private for an extended period, Jeremy.  Or Trish.  Or Amy, 
whomever.  In a regular marriage, that happens daily.  But I
think our marriage, our family, eclipses that.  It overrides
any negative aspects.  There is so much love to go around.
I feel so happy, so blessed to be a part of this family."
   Lindsay smiled yet again.  "Do I feel snuggly?  Do I want
to kiss and cuddle?  Trish.  I can go to Trish for that.  Do
I want advice, someone to talk to about a serious subject?
Pamela, Devon, Scarlett.  Do I NOT feel snuggly, maybe I'm a
little wound up, need to let off some steam?  Amy.  She and I
can get wild and crazy with each other.  Do I want to laugh
and be reminded of who the perfect woman, the perfect girl,
truly is?  Krissy.  You don't know this, Jeremy, but Krissy
is my role model.  I strive to be like her every single day.
I... love all of the girls.  Some for many, different reasons,
but I love them all individually and collectively.  They are
my family, and that is what matters most to me in this world."
   "Do you come to me only so you can admire my forearms?"
   Lindsay laughed and made a motion to slap my shoulder, but
stopped.  She recalled my back injury.  "Oh, stop it!  You're
never going to let me live that comment down, aren't you?"
   "Never," I grinned.
   "And that's the sad thing about Alison," Lindsay frowned.
"If she was just upfront and honest at the beginning, instead
of plotting and scheming her way through everything the whole
year, I like to think things could have turned out differently
for her in the end.  We could have made her see things
differently, really showed her how lucky she was to be here."
Lindsay hesitated, then sniffed her nose.  "Alison wanted the
other girls gone, Jeremy.  She told me that earlier.  All she
ultimately wanted was for the three of us to be together, me,
you and her... and M-Mom.  Alison... actually told me that.
She said... she said I should call you... Daddy too."  Lindsay
made a face and nudged my shoulder.  "Why did you ever agree
to that with her?  It's really creepy."
   "I don't know," was my honest answer.  "It's what, at the
time... I don't know.  It made her happy, and I wanted her to
be happy.  It's what she wanted to do, what she wanted to call
me.  All I have ever wanted was for each of you girls to be
happy.  I treat each of you very differently in the bedroom.
You and Amy like it rough.  You want to be tied up and be made
to submit, to be spanked.  Krissy?  Krissy and I laugh a lot
during sex.  She is always trying to tell me a funny story.  Yet 
I would never think of being forceful with her, putting her over
my knee like I do with you and Amy.  Not her style, what she
likes.  Trish, all I ever want to do is hug and kiss on her
when we are alone.  Pamela?  Pamela constantly needs to be
reassured that she is special, that she is loved and taken
care of, because of all those years she spent as a stripper.
That's generally my goal when I'm having sex with her."
   Lindsay was snickering.  "Maybe Scarlett will tie you up,
Jeremy, and YOU will be the one getting the spanking next
time!"  Her laughter increased for a brief moment, but then
she settled down.  "Oh, I'm sorry.  I shouldn't say that."
   "No, you shouldn't," I agreed with her, serious.  I found
no humor in what she had just said.  I had zero interest being
bound to the bed, waiting for my back to heal.  Yet, I knew
Scarlett would see to it that I was if I defied her again.
   "Jeremy?"  Lindsay seemed timid now, scared.  But why?
   "Yes, sweetheart?"
   She hesitated.  "Would you like it if I called you... 
Daddy, like Alison did?"
   "No!" I exclaimed, pulling back and glaring at her.  Where
in the hell did that question come from?  After everything we
had been through the past 36 hours?  "Lindsay, baby... huh?  
What?  Why would I want you to do that?"
   "You seemed pretty happy when Alison was calling you
Daddy," Lindsay pouted.  "I want to make you happy, too..."
   "Wow," I gushed.  "Wow, no.  No, honey.  No.  What makes
me happy when I am with you, sweetheart, is YOU.  I do not 
want you to put up a false front or do something, or act a 
certain way, that I KNOW makes you feel uncomfortable."
   "I'd get used to it after while..."
   "No, honey," I insisted.  "No.  Just no!"
   Lindsay pouted, clearly ashamed with herself for asking 
such a question.  "Okay."  But to her, the question was born
out of nothing but love, and the willingness to make me happy.
Lindsay began to cry, though.  "It's been a long day, and I 
feel so tired, and so battered!  I talk about how Ali spat on
Dad's memory, but then I go and ask you a question like that."
And then, Lindsay really started to cry.  Big time.
   What could I say in response to that?  Nothing, I realized.
I pulled Lindsay into my arms, where she continued to cry as
one uncontrollable sob after another overtook her.  But I held
on.  I had Lindsay and was never going to let go of her.
   Lindsay cried for several minutes until, finally, the sobs
lessened in intensity before subsiding entirely.  Soon after,
her breathing evened out and returned to normal.  Yet, I did
not let go.  She and I stayed just like that, my fingers
stroking her hair, letting her know that she was not alone.
   Finally, Lindsay pulled away and stared out at the picture
window, her tear-stained face glistening in the moonlight.
She wiped the tears from her cheeks and exhaled slowly.
   "I'm sorry for suggesting that to you, Jeremy.  I'm just...
I really should try and get some sleep.  It's been a really 
bad day, a horrible day, but at least I get to end it on a
good note."  When I nodded at her, Lindsay brushed her lips
to mine and kissed me softly.  "Good night, Jeremy."
   "Sweet dreams.  Oh, and honey?"
   "Yeah?"
   "If you decide on middle-of-the-night television, wake me
up.  I'm in.  _Game of Thrones_ is always on demand."
   She offered a soft smile.  "Deal."

   As the seconds turned into minutes, and the minutes into 
hours, I actually did find it difficult to sleep after all.  
Inside the darkened bedroom, with my wife snoozing within my 
arms, I watched the shadows that the tree branches cast across 
the ceiling, but also saw the images of the day flash in 
succession in my mind.  I hugged Lindsay to me just a bit 
tighter, relying on her warmth and spirit, as the requisite 
sadness those images conjured was upon me instantly.
   We had a lot to wade through to eventually clear ourselves
of this mess, this catastrophe, but Lindsay and I could take 
solace in the fact that we were not alone.  We were never alone.
We had our family, and they would help pull us through anything.


                <<<- End of Chapter 10 ->>>


==---- -- -- -- - --- -- --  -  - --- -- -- --- - -- - - - - --- -- ----==
"Island Fever 6: Sanctuary"

(c) 2016  JeremyDCP

- JeremyDCP@hotmail.com

Feedback is always appreciated!